Private Eye
by Zchocolatebunniesrulezworld
Summary: Sure, Mello was bored. He never asked, though, for an insane redheaded bum to invade his shared apartment, a crossdressing man named Joanna to give him an impossible case, or those feelings for Near to develop! Why does this always happen to him?


**A/N:** I actually barely remember writing this O_O but, looking through my notebook the other day, I thought: "Why not?"  
...and this is the answer to that XD  
_Aaaanyways_, an irrepressible obsession with Kingdom Hearts, Fullmetal Alchemist, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer combined has prevented me from updating my other fics. (I know, you're all devastated :D) In time, my dears...and if you haven't played Kingdom Hearts, DO SO RIGHT NOW and rejoice in the beautiful tragedy that is Akuroku...T.T

_--_

_"Shit," _Mello hissed when a particularly heavy bag assaulted his foot. He was fumbling with an extensive key ring and what seemed like twenty grocery bags, trying to get into his house. He wished Near wasn't in that goddamned wheelchair or he'd be able to let Mello in.

(Of course, he wished Near wasn't in that goddamned wheelchair _period._ Nothing in that boy's life was fair...)

Instead, Mello was forced to struggle with ten thousand pounds of groceries and bring them up the stairs to the kitchen. The room was linked to their living room where Near sat on the floor--out of his wheelchair; Mello had _told_ him not to move on his own unless he had to.

This was a familiar sight to this particular blond chocoholic. However, another man sprawled across the couch was rather--sudden. Unexpected.

"Near?" Mello whispered, trying not to wake the stranger softly snoring on their couch, "who the hell is in our house?"

Mello's albino roommate--coworker--friend--crush--_thing _looked up from his elaborate card tower on the floor. "He appeared on our doorstep ten minutes ago asking for aid, then promptly fell asleep after consuming all of our remaining groceries. I trust Mello has our provisions for the week?"

"Yeah, I went shopping. You can use English for once, you know--but that's not the point. You just let a bum walk into our house, eat all our food, and crash on the couch?"

"Yes," Near stated calmly, returning to his card-citadel. "If Mello hasn't noticed, this man is hardly older than I am and is stick-thin. I believe he needs our assistance."

Taking a cursory glance at the vagabond on their couch, Mello noticed the tattered jeans and vest, the striped shirt that appeared almost entirely black from grime, and the matted red hair.

"Yeah, and a bath." Mello wrinkled his nose and kicked off his shoes before starting to put away the groceries.

Near hadn't been kidding. Their fridge was completely bare--sure, there hadn't been much in it to begin with, but Mello couldn't believe Near had just _let_ this kid barge in and mooch.

Mello ripped open a chocolate bar before flopping down on the floor next to his aforementioned albino roommate-coworker-friend-crush-thing (hereafter referred to as Near).

"Any new cases come in while I was gone?"

Near let out a nearly inaudible sigh. "Mello vacated the premises for half an hour. I highly doubt his detective skills if he thinks someone would have hired our services in that time."

"Goddamnit," Mello groaned. "Nobody's hired us for _weeks_. Good thing . . . _he_. . . was so rich, or we'd be like the bum over there," he jerked his thumb at the man whose mouth was now gaping open in an unsightful yawn.

"Hey. My family's actually pretty rich, jerk. I just got bored at home, so I left. Forgot to take any money, though. I'd have gone back for it, but I didn't want to bother. And I had just got off the train fifty miles away from home."

"Hmm." Instilling as much derision as he could into the syllable, Mello nodded.

"I'm Matt. Mind if I stay here for a month or two? I haven't really got anywhere else to go."

"--This appears acceptable--"

"--No fucking way--"

Near and Mello spoke in unison and Matt grinned. "I can see why you're together. Opposites attract, huh?"

A smile ghosted over Near's face and Mello snorted, glad he'd had so much experience hiding his blushes. "We're not _together_, dumbass. We were roommates in college and set up this private detective agency together because everyone _else_ at Oxford was a complete idiot."

He felt like slapping that annoyingly self-asserted omniscient smirk off of Matt's face, but Near gently laid a hand on his arm, calming him down.

"Say whatever," Matt's eyebrows lifted up condescendingly as he spoke, "you want. I don't care."

Now _this_ was getting on his nerves.

"That's it." Mello deadpanned. "Out."

"Mello," Near said, "I believe we have enough money to support this man for as long as he needs it."

As soon as Near expressed his approval, Mello felt the fight drain out of him like it always did. He had to put up an argument for the sake of appearances, though.

Near knew the all-too-familiar drill, and after ten minutes of wheedling and complaining (and yelling, threatening and smashing furniture), Mello shrugged off the issue with his characteristic, "whatever," and another chocolate bar.

"Awesome," Matt grinned. "Do you guys have a Gamecube? I've got my own controller." Mello had no idea how someone who apparently lived on the streets could manage to acquire a videogame controller and keep it so clean. This guy was a total whack job.

"No, we don't have a Gamecube, and shut up. You're pissing me off."

Considering the issue resolved, he leaned over to help Near with his card tower, just to have something to do. He felt ridiculously pleased when their hands "accidentally" brushed against each other and Near didn't automatically jerk away as he had in college, where they first met.

God, how different they both had been, back then--before they knew each other, and knew _him_. All three of them had been bored and unsatisfied with life; antisocial and keeping to themselves until they realized _they were not alone_. There were others as intelligent as they were, who thought the same way (or on the same wavelength; Mello knew Near had a much more logical way of thinking than he did), and it was so liberating as each slowly drew the other two out of their shells.

They had changed each other, and had been changed in return . . . but when _he'd_--

For once Mello was glad when Matt blurted out a stupid comment: "You expect me to live here for a year without videogames? Dude, you're insane--c'mon, go to Toys 'R' Us or Gamestop or something; they're not that expensive."

_What the--_how could--did he really--? "_I _don't want you here at all! I couldn't give a damn if you're _happy_ or not--and what the hell do you _mean_; 'a year'?! Earth to redhead bum! You can stay for a month, then I'm booting you out of here! You think you can just walk in here and--"

"Please ignore Mello's rude audacity," Near apologized, slowly pulling himself carefully toward his wheelchair two feet away. "I will return momentarily with a recreational gaming system."

Mello's rant cut short as he strode quickly in front of his friend. "Near, don't even think about it. It's boiling outside and you shouldn't tire yourself out just for this guy. We don't want you sick again, dummy. I'll go."

Only Matt saw the small satisfied smile that ghosted over Near's face.

_"Whipped,_" he couldn't help whispering, though he had enough sense to wait until Mello had left the house.

Matt expected Near to explain his apparent sickness and frailty or at least to talk about his companion a bit, but the small man just returned to spreading his card tower across the floor. The redhead shrugged and padded off across the carpet in search of a shower. He could tell he needed one.

--

"Here." Mello dropped the bulging bag into his lap, jolting Matt out of his catnap. "I had no idea what kind of crap you'd want for the next few weeks, so I bought all sorts of these wastes of time to keep you happy. The T.V.'s in my room across the hall, now will you _please_ leave us alone?"

Matt grinned, then walked over to Near who evidently hadn't moved at all and hadn't spoken aside from pointing Matt to their bathroom to shower. He attempted his best puppy-dog eyes as he crouched in front of Mello's fragile friend.

"Neee-aaar? Can you _plaaaay_ with me? It'll be fun, you know it will . . . "

Near glanced up involuntarily and seemed unaffected by Matt's profoundly adorable pleading-face, though he acquiesced, probably just to avoid any conflict.

Mello had learned his lesson against trying to contradict anything Near did so he didn't protest. Wordlessly, he picked up his friend bridal-style (Matt assumed this had something to do with his mysterious weakness and wasn't a random desire) and the three crossed the hall into a plain unfurnished room--Mello's.

After gently setting Near on the floor, Mello flopped down on his bed and watched Matt skip happily over to plug in one of the game systems (he'd bought three just to shut the bum up). Matt tossed the animosity-filled blond a controller and sat next to Near before handing one to him.

"Do you need help with the controls?"

The fiery dragon that reared itself in Mello's stomach was quashed as soon as he could see past a red haze that seemed to cover his vision. Matt, an untrustworthy stranger, probably ridden with disease and parasites, had carefully pulled Near into his lap and wrapped his arms around the smaller man's form. What kind of right did he have to do something that audacious?

Matt's hands encircled Near's smaller, paler ones as he started to explain which button performed which function. Once he had finished, Mello almost sighed in relief but that pervert didn't budge an inch. In fact, he pillowed his cheek on Near's soft white curls and sighed, "Mmm, your hair smells good. Like that chocolate-scented shampoo in your shower."

All right, he could handle the touches-verging-on-gropes, but sniffing hair and talking about a shower? Mello snapped.

"Okay, that's enough." He hopped down from the bed as he spoke. "Near, show me what he just showed you." He pried Near--whose expression had remained blank (a defensive mechanism, _he_ had said; one that only let up when Near was around _him _and Mello)--out of Matt's arms and pulled him onto the bed.

Near quickly described how to make Mello's character attack before Matt started the game: Super Smash Brothers; Mello remembered an acne-ridden teenager practically swooning over the box as he picked it up.

"Near, you have to be White Kirby because you basically _are _a little white ball of fluff," Matt commanded, grinning. "Mello, you should definitely be Samus; you look like her without her suit."

Mello had no idea what any of that crap meant but he chose the character labeled as Samus and waited as Matt highlighted Mario, and Near did likewise with Kirby.

The game was as stupid as Mello had expected from its title, though Near seemed to enjoy it. Matt certainly did (not that Mello gave a damn) judging by how he squealed and leaped into Mello's lap ( . . . how had he even ended up on the _bed_?) every time something exciting happened in their "Brawl".

Mello found something . . . _weird_ . . . in his perception of that short hour. Time seemed to just stand still. He wasn't worried about the future, didn't cringe at his past, and hardly registered the present. He had been sucked into Matt's "now". There was _only_ "now"; past and future ceased to exist, and therefore the present faded away along with them.

He didn't register, then, when the doorbell rang. Near though, ever-practical, logical Near, dragged Mello back into Time with a look.

"Will Mello please carry me to my wheelchair?" he asked. "I believe someone has called upon us for assistance."

"Oh, yeah, of course Near." Mello complied at once, gently lifting his friend without giving second thought to the game. As he carried Near back to his wheelchair in the other room, Mello heard Matt cackle with glee (presumably as he annihilated both Near and Mello's characters). "Fucking _cheater_! We have to _work_!" he screamed across the hall.

"It would be more agreeable if Mello did _not _scare away our first potential customer in two months," Near said, though a small smile crept onto his face. "It seems Mello has begun to get along with our tenant."

"He's not a tenant if he doesn't pay us, Near." Mello rolled his eyes as he deposited his friend into the wheelchair in the living room. "Come on, let's see if this guy has anything interesting for us."

Oh, little did they know. Soon, Mello would desperately long for the boredom which had been, until then, completely engulfing him. All too soon . . .

--

**A/N: **Ugh, it's so rushed! I got inspired in Bio class and had to finish as much as I could before the bell rang...I tried to slow down the pace a bit, but this is really a prologue anyway. Hey though, advice? I always have trouble with pacing...grr DX


End file.
